


Blaze And Fall

by casbean



Series: Wrecking Ball [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Castiel, Bottom Castiel/Top Dean Winchester, Dildos, Dirty Talk, Dom Dean, Dom Dean Winchester, Dom/sub, Dry Orgasm, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Humiliation, Jealous Dean Winchester, Jealousy, M/M, Orgasm Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Praise Kink, Sex Toys, Spanking, Sub Castiel, Top Dean, Top Dean Winchester, Vibrators, and a lil bit of fluff, blowjob, jealous!Dean, like so much of it, literally pure porn, mention of cas x others, mention of gang bang, mention of voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-06
Updated: 2018-01-06
Packaged: 2019-02-28 03:53:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13263096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/casbean/pseuds/casbean
Summary: Dean's not handling his best friend and ex-roommate's "kinks" very well.Until he learns how to handle them.





	Blaze And Fall

**Author's Note:**

> trigger warning: dubious/unclear consent at the start. idk what the name is for like. whatever this is
> 
> this story is me working through stuff so no it's not meant to be healthy and perfect so don't try this at home children but um if u enjoy it then coolio cause i sure do
> 
> yes this series is named after wrecking ball from miley cyrus.... it just fit with it ok but don't worry it ends better
> 
> see ends for more notes (but spoilers)

Dean is seeping with rage as he steps into his best friend’s apartment. He has just walked by a group of random dudes in the hallway and he knows full well they've just come out of Cas'. A scent of sweat and sex drifted pass Dean as they exchange dirty and satisfied looks.

Dean’s shaking as he closes the front door and leans back against it. He doesn’t want to know how many of them touched Cas. How many of them fucked him, and how many of them were there just as an audience.

It’s not the first time Dean accidentally walks in on Cas indulging in this kind of crap. He’s seen it, he’s seen Cas’ body thrown around a room by those gorillas, he’s heard what they say to him in their filthy, sex-drawl tones; calling him a whore, a cockslut, a cumslut, _you love it don’t you sweetheart, you love it when they watch, you love my big fucking cock, you love choking on-_

Once or twice had been enough. Dean tries to be careful now, because he definitely does not want to see it ever again.

The worst part is Cas, after they’re gone. His room turned upside-down, all of his stuff thrown around. And him, clothes torn-off, teary eyes, lips swollen, ass red and sore, covered in the cum of Lord knows how many fucking-

 _He chooses this_ , Dean repeats to himself over and over and over again. It’s his life, he's an independent, mature adult and for some fucking reason _this_ is what he likes. Cas could have anything else, he could have anyone else, he could have- Dean closes his eyes, taking a deep breath. He can hear Cas moving in his bedroom, probably wiping himself off, cleaning up a bit. _H_ _e could have me_ , Dean thinks every damn fucking time.

“Dean?”

Castiel steps out of his bedroom. Dean was prepared, but not enough. Never enough for those wide blue eyes, always a little red and puffy after a _session_ , for his lips that are always such a fucking sin but especially right now, bitten and abused, for his hair that’s been gripped and pulled and twisted... For the clothes that have been hastily pulled back on, and the fresh stains Dean can clearly see on them. For the marks on Cas’ soft skin, marks made by others, strangers who have no fucking business touching him, especially not like that, when they clearly don’t give a fuck about him.

They always come without even asking his name, and they always leave without even making sure he’s okay. When they lived together Dean would often rush to Cas’ bedroom once they were gone to make sure he was alright, and find him half conscious in an absolute mess. He’d be the one to make him something to eat, to give him lotion for his raw skin and bruises. He’d be the one to draw him a bath and drag him back to bed, cleaned up and breathing and fucking _alive_. 

“Yeah. Sorry, I - I should’ve called. Thought we could go catch a movie.”

Dean can’t look at him, so he stares at the wooden panel floor instead.

“That’s a great idea," Cas grins. "I’ll just take a quick shower and then we can go.”

“Okay.”

Dean eventually stopped rushing to his bedside. It just made him mad. And when he got angry that Cas kept doing it, Cas got angry at Dean because  _I never asked for your help, Dean_. And it was the truth but it hurt. It just fucking hurt.

And then there was that one time. That one time they drank a little too much and Dean asked Cas _why_ , _just_   _tell me_ _why you do this to yourself, Cas_.  Cas shrugged and said  _because it feels good. It's what I know, and it works._ And Dean asked him if he’d even tried it any other way, and Cas said sure, he’d had all kinds of sex with strangers, tried all kinds of things. Then Dean leaned over a little too close, and asked him if he’d ever made love.

"What's  _making love_ to you, Dean?"

“Making love's... different. It's more. It's giving pleasure and getting pleasure and sharing that with someone you actually love. Someone who really gives a fuck about you. Who really cares.”

Cas shrugged again and looked down the neck of his bottle.

“I'm not sure how big of a difference it would make.”

Dean kissed him. Because fuck. He’d been in love with Cas for years - pretty much since the moment they'd met, a long long time ago - and he needed Cas to know. To _feel_. He kissed Cas with all the softness and sweetness and _feelings_ he could fucking muster. And Cas let him.

And then Dean asked _do you wanna try?_ and Cas nodded and they found themselves in Dean's bed, and Dean did everything right, he kissed Cas all over very soft and slow, he touched him all over and listened and felt and and tried really fucking hard to make him feel loved and cherished and precious because he _was_ , Dean fucking loved him _so much_ and Cas deserved to feel that, he deserved to be fucking worshiped as the sacred, holy angel he was.

But there was something, something not quite right in the way Cas looked at him with that forced smile, in the way he kept glancing but not quite looking into Dean’s eyes, in the way he just felt so fucking _not there_. It’s like he was trying to escape Dean, escape his kisses and his touches and his hold. And Dean kept asking him if he was okay, if what he was doing was okay, and Cas kept saying yes, of course, keep going. So Dean did. Because he'd dreamed about it so much, so he ignored the fact that it didn't feel quite right, and that Cas was just so silent, and that even coming in Dean's mouth almost felt like an effort.

And then. Then Dean wanted to hold him, kiss him, share this moment with him, and Cas - Cas left. He got up and said he needed to get some sleep, and he got out of bed. Without even a kiss.

Dean was pissed. He jumped on his feet and followed him, not remembering the last time he had felt like this - hollow, betrayed. Hurt.

“What the hell, Cas?”

“Is something wrong?”

“Usually after making love there’s at least _some_ cuddling. I mean-”

Dean looked at Cas hopelessly. His best friend was completely avoiding his eyes.

“I’m sorry. I’m tired.”

“Was it - was it bad or something?”

“No. It was perfectly fine.”

“ _F_ _ine_? Fuck.” Dean rubbed a hand on his face.

“There’s nothing wrong with fine.”

“Yeah, there kind of is. ‘Cause I ain’t some dick you picked up on the street, Cas. I’m your best friend. This was supposed to be - I don’t know. Special, for you.”

“I never asked you to do me any favors.”

Dean was gobsmacked. And hurt - Cas was looking at him defiantly now, his eyes cold, his cheeks a little pink.

“It wasn't - wasn't a favor. I just thought you'd want to try something... better. Than _them_.”

“Why is it such a big deal to you who I enjoy sleeping with?” Cas then asked, with that stupid confused crunch of eyebrows so typical of him.

“You know what… it’s not. It’s really fucking not.”

Dean left. And moved out a few weeks after. He just couldn’t handle it. Cas having more fun fucking all those gross dudes (often several at once) instead of Dean, his best friend - or former best friend - was just unbearable. Fine, Cas didn’t love him. It hurt like Hell, but he was allowed to. But how could he love being fucking humiliated in front of all these nameless frat bros who ignored him or even mocked him the next day more than being touched by Dean? How could he pick that humiliation and these people over him?

They somehow managed to remain friends. They saw each other almost every week because they had so many friends in common, and Dean still cared too fucking much about him to be driven away. And Cas, well, Cas was never one to be weird about anything, even if that thing was _hey I made love to you and you didn’t really like it and I got mad about it and you keep on getting fucked by people who give no shit about you and sometimes I get really mad about that too_.

Dean has to respect Cas’ choices. He wants to. He fucking tries to.

But right now, all that Dean can think about are those guys coming out of Cas’ bedroom, and the way they laughed and highfived each other. How they smelled of sex and cheap deodorant and mostly of _Cas_. He remembers the way they checked their cellphones, probably because they filmed Cas without his fucking consent (or maybe, maybe he did consent, which is somehow even worse). How can Cas accept to live like this? Dean wants to be his friend, but fuck, it’s not easy when he’s so fucking in love with him he can’t even breathe.

Dean can’t stop, he can’t change, he loves him, he loves everything about him. He loves how neat Cas is about everything in his apartment, he loves the ridiculous amount of plants everywhere, he loves Cas’ fucking obsession about the Russian revolution, he loves all the fucking historical puppets Cas makes by hand and sells online. He loves that he wears skirts and dresses and doesn't care what anyone thinks. He loves how kind and attentive and empathetic Castiel is, he loves the way he smiles and the way he squints and the way he sighs, he loves the way he smells and the way he looks when he’s asleep and his hair is all mussed and his cheeks are all squished, he loves the way he eats so much fucking candy and drinks tall glasses of milk and gets a cute milk mustache. He loves how hard Cas works and how much he tries and how good he is, he loves that he’s clueless and honest and hurtful sometimes, because that's who he is.

Dean knows Cas better than anyone else in the world. He knows he doesn't know _everything_ , because Cas doesn't talk about everything, because very bad things happened to him. But he's his oldest friend and they've shared so much and sometimes Dean gets really angry because he loves him and soars for him and Cas deserves so much and fuck, why does he accept so little?

“I’m ready,” Cas says, getting out of the bathroom in a fresh pair of clothes.

He’s so beautiful that Dean stops breathing for a moment. But then he blinks. He blinks at the reddening bites on Cas’ neck and at his wet hair because there was fucking cum drying in it, and he just - he just can’t.

“I - I don’t think I can, Cas. Sorry. I, um. I’m gonna go.”

“Dean. Wait.”

Cas walks closer to him and Dean tenses. His scent. His fucking vanilla, coconut-y drift.

“Is it - is it because of what you saw? The men-”

“I just can’t.”

“I thought we were past this.”

Dean shakes his head.

“Me too. But I just-”

“I understand that as my friend you're feeling protective towards me, but I assure you everything is perfectly consensual. I do this because I enjoy it.”

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s kind of what fucks me up.”

Cas lets out a very audible sigh. His jaw is tensed when he speaks again.

“We can't all have the same sexual preferences.”

“Don’t,” Dean scoffs. "This isn't a fucking orientation, Cas. This is -"

Castiel looks at him defiantly, daring him to continue his sentence.  _Wrong? Disgusting? Fucked up?_

“I just don’t get it," Dean grinds out. "How can _that_ be better than-”

"This is about us."

"No-" Dean scoffs. "It's-"

“Yes. You’re mad because your ego was bruised finding out your sexual prowess were not what you thought they were, and that I prefer the touch of others to yours.”

“You can be a fucking asshole sometimes, you know that?”

Dean slams the front door in Castiel’s face.

 

Cas calls. A lot. Dean doesn’t answer. It goes on for several days, until Charlie texts and tells him to **_answer the damn phone_**.

“He needs to talk to you,” she says when Dean finally calls her back. 

“Well I don’t wanna talk to him.”

“It’s not his fault he has a-”

“A what? A  _kink_? Yeah. Well fuck off. Him and his fucking kink can fuck right off.”

"Don't be a kinkshamer, Dean. It's just not cool."

"Yeah, I think I don't care, Char. And believe me, you haven't seen the shit I've seen."

“At least let the guy apologize.”

 

Dean doesn't even bother saying hello when he finally presses  _answer_ to Cas' 94759843th phone call.

"What do you want?”

“I want to apologize, Dean.”

“For what?”

“What I said was unfair.”

“No, you were just being honest. That’s what you do.”

Dean hates that a tiny (okay, a big) part of him loves that about Cas.

“You were trying to do a nice thing for me. I’m sorry it did not turn out the way you wanted. I'm sorry I don't enjoy normal things like you.”

“It’s not about - it was never about that. Fuck, you’re so fucking dense sometimes.”

“Excuse me?”

Dean takes a deep breath, pressing the phone against his ear. Is he really going to do this? Right now? A year and a half later? Apparently. He feels like he might explode if he doesn't.

“I was making _love_ to you. That's what it was about. It wasn't about being normal, it was about - fuck. I was in love with you. I'm mad because I fucking love you, Cas, and I think you deserve better that the shit you put yourself through. Fuck, I just wanted to make you feel good. And I thought - I dunno. I thought you - I thought you loved me, so I thought I could make you feel like - like you were. Loved. So you'd know what it's like, when you're in love and - I don’t know. I don’t know what I fucking thought.”

There’s a thick silence on the other end of the line. Cas' voice shakes when he speaks again.

“Has it ever occurred to you, Dean, that maybe the reason why I do what I do, and enjoy what I enjoy, is because it’s what I deserve?”

“What?”

"I can't  _love_ the way you love. I can't - I'm messed up, Dean. I'm fucked up. Someone like you - you have so much love to give, so much goodness, I can't - I can't be loved like you deserve to love someone. I can't love like you deserve to be loved. That's why I - that's why I left that night. It wasn't right."

"That's bullshit, Cas. You deserve so much, you deserve everything-"

"I know you think so, but-"

"Look, it's not because you don't love me that you can't love, alright? You don't have to be in love with everyone who's in love with you. You don't choose that shit. You're going to fall in love and-"

"Dean, I  _am_ in love! Of course I- that's not..." Cas stops himself like he's already said too much. "It's not about that."

"You're in love?"

"It has nothing to do with-"

"Yeah, it does, Cas! If you-"

"Making love, and being - _being_ loved, being in a relationship, with someone like you, someone who needs and who deserves so much more than what I can give, I could never do this to you. Don't you understand that?" 

There's a long, heavy silence. This is so much, words Dean never thought he'd hear. not ever. Yet...

"Cas-"

"I'm trying, Dean. Believe me. I've been in therapy for years and I'm  _trying_. What I'm doing, the sex - I know you don't agree, but it's... it helps. I have full control over it and yet allow myself to  _lose_ all that control. And making the conscious decision to be treated that way, accepting that humiliation, that pain, that pleasure, it's just - it's liberating. It's _freeing_. Nothing compares. I know you can't understand, but-"

"I just want you to be happy," Dean murmurs.

"I'll get there one day." 

Dean doesn’t say anything for a really long time. He can hear Castiel breathe on the other end of the line. 

“You said - you're in love. With - is it - it's me, right? Tell me it's-”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Yeah. Yeah it fucking does, Cas.”

“No." He hears Castiel breathe on the other end of the line. "We can never be together. Not like you want us to be. No matter how much I - I’ll ever be able to let you love me, not like you think I deserve to be loved. And that would only result in a lot of unhappiness for you.”

“Yeah, well we’ll see about that,” Dean murmurs before hanging up.

 

Dean has thought about this a lot. About Cas, about what he said. He’s read and documented himself about it too. He’s not going in blind this time. He won't make the same mistakes twice.

So he's fully prepared when he texts Cas, on a Saturday he knows Cas isn't working. 

Dean: ** _wanna see you_ **  

**_and please don’t have the fucking stench of a bunch of strangers all over you_ **

Cas: _I haven’t add encounters in over a week._

Dean: **_go_** ** _od_**

**_you home?_ **

Cas: _Yes._

 

When Castiel opens the door, he looks a bit unsettled.

Dean takes his time to look him up and down, licking and chewing his bottom lip. Cas frowns.

“Dean…?”

“Been thinking about it, Cas.”

Dean sees Cas’ frown deepens, especially as he moves towards him and Cas takes a first step back.

“Been thinking about it a lot. All those dudes with their hands on you.”

“Dean-”

“And you fucking loving it. Coming with their cocks inside your tight little hole. Covered in their cum. With their fucking handprint still on your ass the next morning.”

Cas is slowly backing away now, his cheeks turning a darker and darker shade of pink. His lower lip is shaking and he’s quickly glancing around as Dean keeps staring and moving towards him.

“Been thinking about how you’ve been choosing them over me this whole fucking time. All those times I walked in on you with them. It's like you wanted me to.”

Cas shakes his head vehemently.

"I didn’t - I never-”

They’ve reached the bedroom now, and Cas looks in complete shock. Scared, even. 

“Get in the bedroom, Cas.”

Cas stares at Dean for a few seconds, his chest heaving, his eyes wide and ever so blue. Dean keeps his stance, shoulders squared, jaw clenched, glare cold.

He watches the way Cas blushes under his gaze and finally gives up, opening the door to the bedroom and backing away in it.

“I don’t think this is a good idea,” Castiel murmurs in a small voice when Dean follows him and locks the door behind them.

“You think you can tell me you _love_ being a fucking whore and expect me to not take advantage of it, Cas?”

Cas’ beautiful lips are shaking, and he’s making himself small under Dean’s glare.

“I-”

Dean grabs him by the hair and yanks him closer, delighted by the yelp that comes out.

“Did you really think I was gonna let this go? That I was gonna let you whore out to everyone else in this fucking town without having a go myself? If you’re gonna act like a fucking slut for anyone, it’s gonna be for _me_ , Cas.”

Dean doesn’t miss the little sound that escapes Cas’ throat at his last words, spoken low and heavy. Maybe it’s because of how tight he’s twisting his fist in Cas’ curls, but maybe it’s because of the overwhelming possessiveness of his words. Cas’ hands come to rest on Dean’s forearms, almost like a plea.

Dean’s lips brush on the soft skin right underneath Cas’ ear.

“You’re _mine_ , Cas. And you can say whatever the fuck you want. I’m gonna take what’s fucking mine and you’re gonna love every second of it. Are we clear?”

“Dean,” Cas pants, his chest heaving. “I don’t - I don’t think this is-”

Dean yanks his head backward. Cas whines.

“I said _are we clear_?”

Cas closes his eyes. Dean feels the surrender, the acceptance on his features, his muscles relaxing.

“Yes, Dean.”

“Good. Now get on the bed, knees on the floor.”

Cas doesn’t protest and does as he’s told.

Dean stays behind and admires the picture for a moment. Cas bent over for him, propped on his elbows, his ass sticking out, in one of those sinful skirts he loves to wear so much. Like he knows what those do to Dean, he’s also wearing knee-high socks and the only things bare are his thighs, parted just enough to be teasing. Dean is fucking throbbing with desire and _need_ and fuck, fuck, maybe he’s always wanted this.

Exactly like this.

He kneels behind Cas, rubbing his palm on the back of his friend's thigh and hitching up his skirt until he’s palming his perfect ass. Cas shivers imperceptibly and Dean could swear he grinds back against him. He grabs Castiels waist and pulls him up until his back is resting on Dean's chest, and nips at his earlobes.

“You look so fucking sinful, Cas. Wearing that short little skirt when you know how just fuckable it makes you look. You wore it just for me, didn’t you? Knew I was coming, decided to be a fucking tease?” 

“No, Dean, I swear-”

“Shh.”

Dean presses his fingers in the firm curve of Castiel's ass and massages. Cas bites his lips and closes his eyes.

“Don’t lie, sweetheart. Look at those fucking panties…” Dean’s fingers slide over the satin and it takes him a lot of self control to not grind against Cas until he comes in his pants. “You’re just begging to get fucked. I bet that’s all you ever think about, isn’t it, Cas? Just someone grabbing you, lifting up your skirt, lowering your panties and fucking you raw-” 

Cas shakes his head but Dean can feel the heat of his cheeks, the tension of his body, the needy way he’s biting his lips. He’s firmly groping Cas’ cheeks now, with no delicacy at all. It’s glorious.

“What’s your safeword, baby?” Dean asks, breathing hot and directly into Cas’ ear. 

He can feel a moment of hesitation, before Cas stifles a moan and answers. 

“Orchid.” 

“Good. Lay back.”

 Watching Cas obey does something incredibly powerful, exhilarating, and a bit scary to Dean all at the same time.

Instead of dwelling on it he walks up to the small bedside table and opens the drawers. Each of them contain a collection of toys; dildos, vibrators, plugs, and also lubes and condoms of all flavours. Instead of picking one, Dean just grabs the drawers themselves and tears them off their hinges, before emptying their content on the bed next to Cas’ face. He discards the empty drawers on the ground. 

Dean kneels next to Cas, foraging through the colourful display of objects on the comforter. 

“Holy damn, Cas,” he murmurs, holding a _huge_ blue dildo in the shape of a rocket, and another one shaped like the cock of some mysterious animal. “You’re a kinky little fucker.”

Cas turns away, cheeks red like a streetlight.

“What am I gonna start with on you, uh? How big can you take unprepped?”

Dean is picking through some very good size and weird shaped dildos and vibrators that he knows full well would never fit painlessly in anyone’s ass unprepped, just to check Cas’ reaction.

“This one, maybe?” Dean holds up a big pink glass dildo with a protuberant end.

His friend looks shyly at the toy, opens his mouth to protest, and then closes it. Dean smirks.

He doesn’t choose that one, though. For what he has in mind right now, a smaller - but still interesting in size and shape - plug should do.

“I got a lotta things planned for you, baby,” he coons as he gets back behind Cas. He lowers his panties slowly and can feel shivers running through his friend’s body. Good. 

“Close your eyes, I don’t wanna blow the surprise.”

Cas obeys without a word. 

Dean realizes his tone and his touches are getting a bit softer, a bit more tender as he dribbles lube down on his fingers, keeping Cas’ skirt hitched up with the other hand. But Cas still seems into it - it’s almost imperceptible, the way he shifts back just a tiny bit when he hears the bottle cap, or the way he drops his head down on his arms - but it's enough. 

Dean doesn’t warn Cas before he slips up two lubed fingers inside of him. Cas groans, shudders, but takes them - squeezes so tight around them that Dean’s head spins for a second and he forgets where he is, what he’s doing, and all he can see are his fingers disappearing in that tight fucking heat and _fuck_ \- but he regains control and begins pumping them in and out quickly. Cas lets out punched out sounds - it must burn or at least _feel_ a little, no matter how much stuff he puts up there on a regular basis. The lube is still kind of cold as Dean moves his fingers expertly, scissoring, stretching Cas, who spreads his legs wider and begins rocking back.

“Fuck, Cas. Fucking two seconds in and already so fucking hungry. Look at you.” 

Cas whimpers, hiding his face in his arms but moving back in earnest. Dean slips out (and catches the frustrated groan coming out of his friend) and makes him wait for a moment before he slips in the lubed toy - a large, glittery, purple plug. This time Cas yelps, his pelvis moving forward, resisting the intrusion. Dean grabs his hips and steadies him before pushing the toy in again. Cas groans, whines, but accepts it. His hole stretches out slowly, bright pink and wet around the width of the silicon. And then it’s all the way in and Cas is breathing heavily, groaning, pulsing around it. Dean can’t help but tenderly stroke his waist with his fingers - he's doing so good. 

He catches himself though, and instead uses his hands to part Cas’ cheek, exposing the little rubber nub lodged in the crease of his ass. Cas squirms, breathing out, and Dean can feel how close he is to begging - but he resists.

“Look at you,” he repeats, mesmerized. “Taking it so fucking well. So fucking stretched out around it. Looks so fucking good, you have no idea. Fuck.”

Cas whimpers at his words, his ass tightening in Dean’s hands, but Dean only spreads him wider, and blows softly on the puffed pink flesh of Cas’ rim. 

“Dean...” 

Dean’s holding Cas’ hips almost painfully tight but Castiel still tries to squirm away from the overstimulation of his breath. Dean chuckles.

“Stay still, Cas. Or you’re gonna get punished.”

Cas stills immediately but he’s breathing hard, his fingers twitching on the comforter. Dean grins. He proceeds to press his lips and suck around the nub of the toy, lick at the stretched out flesh until Cas cries out, moving again out of reach. 

Dean drags him back roughly. 

“What did I just say, Cas?”

“I’m sorry.” 

“Sit up and look at me.” 

Cas obeys, and Dean stands next to him just so Cas can watch as he undoes his belt and slowly slides it out of its hooks. His cock is still trapped in his jeans, tracing a hard outline and damping a spot near the hem. He notices the way Cas’ eyes dart to it, the way he wets his lips at the sight. Dean folds the belt and snaps it on his thigh, causing Cas to jump and look up to his face again. 

“Please, Dean-” Cas frowns, trying to move back - away - but Dean's blocking his way out.

“Yeah. You’re sorry, aren’t you, Cas?” 

Cas nods. Dean shakes his head.

“But you did it, Cas. Disobeyed me.” He brushes his palm on Cas’ cheek, who’s still kneeling at his feet. “And I gotta punish you. That’s just how it is.” 

He tells Cas to get on his stomach on the bed, and then stands at the foot of it, gazing down at the gorgeous view in front of him. The first two slaps are for the disobedience, and Cas cries out and bounces a bit from the bed each time. Two red outlines appear on his perfectly round ass, and Dean resists the urge to bend down and kiss them. Instead he kneads at Cas’ thighs, rubbing the leather of his belt on the reddening flesh.

“Do you feel like you’ve been punished enough, Cas?”

Cas lifts his head slightly but stays silent. Dean’s heart hammers in his chest. He’s not sure about this, not sure of what he’s about to do. But he’s been reading Cas right so far, and hopefully he’ll keep doing so. 

“‘Cause I’m thinking maybe not.” 

Dean digs his fingers a little harder in Cas’ flesh and feels it twitching, like he’s trying to escape the pressure. 

“‘Cause you did really bad things, Cas. You should’ve been mine a long fucking time ago. But instead you decided to be a fucking slut and fuck the whole fucking town. Or actually -” This time Dean _really_ kneads hard at Cas’ thigh and watches him scowl. “-actually, you let the whole town fuck  _you_. You let them all fuck you except me. And that’s just not fucking okay, Cas.” 

"I'm sorry," Cas mumbles, almost inaudible.

Cas gasps when the leather slaps his flesh again. And then again. And _again_. Each time Castiel’s sounds get a little louder, and his hips bounce a little harder, and Dean can’t stop his own mouth from saying things now, punctuating every sentence with a new beating.

“It’s no fucking okay, and they need to fucking know, Cas. That they were taking what was _mine_. And maybe you need to be reminded, too."

Cas cries out - " _please, Dean_ -" but Dean ignores him.

"Maybe I need to mark your ass so deep that anyone who ever tries to fuck you again _knows_ who you belong to. What'd you think, Cas?”

"I promise, _I promise_ , please-" Cas mumbles between two harsh smacks that leave bright stripes on his flesh.

Dean’s barely controlling the strength with which he's hitting Cas anymore, and if his hand wasn't clutching so hard on Cas' thigh to keep him in place he’s pretty sure Cas would’ve crawled away by now.

“No one - _no one_ \- is ever gonna mark you like I do. No one's ever gonna fuck you like I'm about to, Cas. You're  _mine_ , and you better never forget it.”

Dean marks his last words with one last full-strength blow that has Cas screaming and bucking off the bed. Castiel's shoulders are shaking, his fists twisted in the covers, his face hidden in his arms but Dean can see it’s flushed red and wet with tears.

Yet he can also see, very clearly, the way Cas’ hips are grinding in slow, subtle rotations against the bedspreads, as they were doing between every fucking hit of Dean’s belt and following each of his words.

Dean grabs Cas by the hips and flops him around, and what he finds out makes his heart thud in his chest and the orgasm he'd been keeping at bay tear through him with absolutely no warning.

Cas’ cock is stretching out the satin panties in an absolutely obscene way, damp along almost the whole length; a wide, darkened circle near the tip of it where the precum has leaked so much it left a spot on the sheets under him.

Cas is hiding his face, breathing hard, wiping off his tears, and Dean takes a minute to fully comprehend what’s happening, what he’s doing. He's dizzy, the relief the of post-orgasm haze prickling through his body - he came without even touching himself, just from the friction of his own cock against his jeans and this insane, unholy vision of Cas with his skirt hitched all the way up and his cock _so fucking hard_ - 

“Holy fuck, Cas. You love this so fucking much.”

He doesn’t let Cas or himself react to what he’s just said and instead grabs the hem of Cas’ panties and pulls them down. He takes one full second to admire Cas' gorgeous cock, flushed pink and curved up and leaking so pretty on his stomach - and then he kneels down and takes the wet, glistening tip in his mouth. 

Cas cries out, one hand flying to Dean’s hair, but Dean grabs his wrist and pins it to the bed.

“No touching,” he mumbles, pulling off for a second before sinking down again.

He feels Cas’ hips moving to rock back into his mouth, hears his desperate whines above him, and only swallows him down deeper.

Fuck. He'd forgotten how good Cas tastes, how much he’s wanted this and him for so fucking long. And this time he makes sounds, desperate and loud _sounds_ , and he squirms and moves and begs and is that Dean's name in Cas' gorgeous broken voice? It takes all of Dean's strength not to lose his fucking mind.

But he regains control of himself and holds Cas’ hips in place as he bobs his head up and down, lips tightly sealed around him. He sucks and licks until Cas’ sounds become intelligible pleas and warnings.

Only then does he pull away and leave Cas there, on his back on the bed, legs spread, looking bewildered and lost.

Dean makes another tour of the room, looking for something. 

“No touching,” he reminds Cas, seeing his friend's hand sliding down his stomach. “Counts for yourself, too.” 

Cas doesn’t say anything but obeys. Dean realizes he hasn’t even taken a single piece of clothes off yet. Even Cas is still wearing most of his. And here Dean is, looking for a tie. He discards his sweaty shirt and stained pants, and then carefully removes the reminder of Cas' clothes. He just fucking loves the way Cas lets him do everything, without a question, without a protest, so lax and pliant between his hands. Castiel lays back on the bed, gloriously naked, ass red and abused, waiting patiently for what is to come next.

The closest thing that Dean finds is a scarf that Cas likes to wear, so he comes back to the bed and ties Cas’ hands above his head with it. 

“You good?” Dean murmurs softly as he’s tying the knot, lost for a second in Cas’ eyes that are so wide and open and blown-up and gorgeous and looking up at him in a way they’ve never, ever done before. 

Dean curses himself for that moment of weakness but Cas nods and keeps looking at him, watching his every move.

Dean comes back between Cas’ legs, stroking his cock a few times. Cas moans but seems more in control. Dean begins to pull out the plug. Cas groans, shuddering, his toes curling around Dean. 

“Please,” he begs.

“What?”

“Please, Dean.” 

“Please, what?” Dean smirks, rubbing the plug in and out of his rim. Cas whines. 

“Need you.” 

“Do you?”

“ _Yes._ Please. Fuck me.”

Dean ignores the millions of tingles that run through his body when he hears the words.

“Yeah, you’re gonna have to be a bit more patient, babe.”

Cas whines again and Dean laughs. He pulls out the plug completely and then goes back to the pile of toys, not sure which one to pick next.

Cas is growing impatient next to him.

“Dean-”

“I told you when I came in, Cas. You’re mine. And I’m gonna do whatever the fuck I want with you, and you’re gonna love every minute of it.” 

“Yes, Dean.”

So Cas waits, patiently.

“Close your eyes, darling.” 

Cas yields. Dean has grabbed quite a simple vibrator, a bit big, maybe, but he’s looking forward to seeing how much he can stretch Cas out. He knows Cas has taken much more anyway.

The toy is bigger than the plug, and Cas’ body puts out a bit of resistance at first, but like the first time, Dean holds him steady and eases in slowly, watching every scowl and aw on Cas’ face, every sigh of pleasure, every flush, every nip to his lip, every whimper stuck in his throat. He watches the toy slowly disappear through the ring of muscles, watches how Cas greedily takes in every inch.

When Dean turns on the vibration - lowest setting - Cas’ mouth falls open, his back arches, his cock twitches up and leaks onto his stomach. Dean begins to move, experimentally, and Cas squirms, letting out punched out moans.

“No moving,” Dean orders. He holds down Cas’ hips. Cas lets out a desperate whimper. 

“Please-”

“No.”

Dean fucks the toy back in more insistently, upping the vibration, changing the angle until Cas cries out, trashing, heaving. Dean smirks victoriously and does it again, and again. 

“How does it feel, Cas?”

“Feels good. Feels so good, Dean-”

He ups the vibration again and Cas screams, his hands flying down, stumbling to touch himself despite being still knotted together. Dean grabs them with his free hand and pins them back above his head. 

“Nu-uh, Cas. No touching.”

Cas sobs, actual tears forming on the corner of his eyes. But Dean is so far from done with this. He’s only beginning. 

He leans over and kisses Cas’ neck, biting and sucking at the soft flesh, as he keeps moving the vibrator in and out of him. 

“Dean, Dean, Dean-”

“Yeah baby I’m here-” 

“Please, please-”

“You wanna come?”

“Yes! Yes!” 

“Not yet, sweetheart. Not yet.”

Cas hiccups and buries his face in Dean’s neck. Dean lets go of the vibrator momentarily, holding the back of Cas’ head right there for a moment, relishing in that small weakness. 

Then he pulls back and sits back on his heels, carefully letting go of Castiel’s wrists. 

“No touching,” he repeats.

Cas nods, eyes shut tight.

He spreads Cas’ legs wider and settles between them. He lowers the vibration on the toy and reaches between Cas' cheeks with lubed fingers and start circling. Cas tries and fails to catch his breath. Dean pulls out the toy slightly and then pushes back with a finger alongside it.

Cas lets out the most adorable groan of surprise. 

“Oh.” 

Dean pulls back and then in again with a second finger, stretching him wider, and watches Cas scowl, grimace, and then accept it. At four fingers, fitted alongside the toy, Cas looks like he’s ascended to another dimension. His mouth is wide open, his head thrown back, and he’s not saying anything anymore, barely any sound coming out of his mouth. Steady precum is leaking out of his cock and pooling on his stomach, and Dean longs to lick it clean. 

Instead he focuses on how to crooks his fingers inside of Cas. Following the curve of the toy but with more intensity, Dean is able to brush and poke right at Cas’ prostate with every thrust, which has his beloved shake from head to toe. And then he ups the vibration again until his own fingers are vibrating as well, and this time he shoves them right into Cas’ prostate until Cas is screaming, begging, pleading. Dean’s other hand wraps tightly around the base of Cas' cock. 

“ _Dean! D_ _ean dean dean, holy holy holy f_ uck fuck _dean, dean, please please please please_ -”

“Look at yourself, Cas.”

“Please Dean please, I need, need to come, please-”

“Open your eyes and look, baby.”

Cas trashes and moans for a few more seconds before he obeys, reluctantly. He does his best to sit up and look at his cock, angry red with Dean’s hand around it, and then down where Dean’s other hand is disappearing alongside the thick vibrator inside his ass.

“Look how fucking good you’re taking me inside of you, Cas. Look how fucking pretty you are.”

“Dean please, please-”

“You’re so fucking perfect like this. Feels so fucking good, Cas. I can’t wait to fuck you.”

“DEAN!”

“If I let you come, I’m still gonna fuck you, Cas. I’m gonna fuck you and I’m gonna make you come again-”

Cas nods frantically. He's writhing, his hands gripping and groping and grasping at the sheets, his whole body red and taunt with need and tears slipping out of his eyes.

“Dean dean dean dean _dean dean dean dean_ -”

Dean lets go of his grip around the base of Cas’ cock and moves down to his balls, stroking them softly.

“Come for me, sweetheart.” 

It’s all Cas needs. He comes with a shout - several shouts, actually, grasping around Dean’s fingers as he pushes and thrusts them into his prostate again and again. Thick ropes of come splatter on Cas’ chest, shooting up until he finally stills, moaning softly and breathing heavily.

 

Dean very, very delicately takes out his fingers and the toy, turning off the vibration. Cas looks so fucking beautiful like this, covered in his own pleasure, completely fucked out, flushed and sated and relaxed. Dean just wants to clean him up and hold him and kiss him and kiss him and then kiss him some more.

But he’s not done. They’re not done. He quickly grabs a towel and wipes the drying cum off Cas' chest, and then brings a water bottle to Cas' lips, forcing him to drink several big gulps before he lets Cas fall back against the bedspread.

He knows he’s getting a bit overboard, caressing Cas’ cheek, stroking his hair, but the guy really deserves to enjoy his fucking orgasm. For once.

Dean’s busying himself with putting the toys back in the drawers and the drawers back in the dresser when he hears a rustle; Cas opening his eyes and sitting on the bed, stretching out happily. 

“Where do you want me next?”

Dean’s heart flutters with pride and happiness (okay, a lot of happiness) and he bites back a smile. 

“Right there’s fine.” 

He walks back to the bed and takes off his boxers, noticing how Cas’ eyes follow appreciatively the bobbing of his cock (which got hard ridiculously fast after his first orgasm). He sits on the bed, back on a pillow against the wall, and looks down suggestively between his legs.

Cas doesn’t need more instructions before he’s crawling up to him.

“Slow,” Dean murmurs as Cas’ begins to stroke him. “Take your time, sweetheart.”

Cas nods. He begins with broad licks on his shaft, nuzzling in his balls. His hand is good, so fucking good, long fingers deft and firm. His mouth is hot and his lips are plush and he’s just, he’s really fucking good, the way he takes just the tip of Dean's cock between his lips and sucks, and then teases and laps with his tongue, and then slowly, slowly moves and takes him deeper and deeper, all the while paying great attention to his frenulum with his tongue.

It makes Dean’s toes curl and his whole body shudder, and soon he’s got one hand sunk in Cas’ curls and he’s holding tight, and fuck, fuck Cas' so good at that, so good at looking up at him with his pretty pink lips stretched around his cock, so good at taking him down so deep Dean’s seeing stars and _feels_ the back of Cas’ throat closing around him yet Cas is still fucking staring at him with his baby blue eyes and Dean’s brain cells are all about to fucking implode. 

“Slow down, baby,” Dean tells him, stroking the back of his head. “Want it to last.”

Cas is sprawled out on the bed, sweat drying on his skin, his ass glowing red, relaxed and offered all for Dean's appreciation. Dean can just abandon himself to this, the tight heat of Cas’ mouth, to being here in Cas’ bed and having him, _having_ him, all to himself. For now.

There’s just this fucking nagging voice in the back of Dean's mind that keeps telling him _he’s really good at this, Cas is so fucking good at_ _this_ , so fucking good at doing this with his mouth and Dean keeps thinking about all the other dudes that had Cas on his knees doing that, and he just - fuck.

Dean rubs a hand on his face. Why can't he stop thinking about this? About _them?_

Cas sits up and looks at him, noticing his distraction. 

“You’re really good at this," Dean murmurs.

“So were you.”

Dean nods. _There’s no comparison_ , Dean thinks.  _You didn't walk in on me getting passed around five dudes in my bedroom, with their cum all over my face-_

Cas is slowly stroking him now, and he’s brought his body closer to him. His cheeks are cherry red, and his lips are bubblegum pink, and he’s looking at Dean like he’s knows what’s going on in his head.

And then he’s there. He leans over, and he’s there, and Dean takes his face in his hands and kisses him. Fuck, he kisses him, and it’s been so fucking long since he’s tasted his lips, since he’s had him like this, since he’s held him and just kissed him - and Cas is kissing him so soft and smiling and pressing himself against Dean all warm and _there_ and real and Dean is fucking euphoric but he also wants to cry a little bit.

Cas pulls away to breathe but Dean holds him there, holds him close with his thumb on his cheek and his fingers on the back of his neck. 

“I _am_ yours, Dean,” Cas murmurs, and he looks down where their skins are pressed against each other. “Entirely.” 

And then he looks up again, wide and luminous, and it’s a fucking miracle, and his lips are fucking there and Dean wants - fuck he wants so much, so much to kiss him again. But somehow he knows it can wait.

“Well get back to work, then,” he says instead. 

The smile that breaks on Castiel’s face is worth every fucking kiss they could ever share. 

Dean lets his arousal build up nice and slow, until he feels Cas' jaw getting slack and tired. And then he pulls him off again.

His hand replaces Cas' mouth, stroking as he gazes over at Cas, who’s sitting there in his high-knee socks with his cock, pink and hard again, face blushing a little, spit-slick lips, wondering what Dean’s looking at. 

“Where do you want me?”  
  
“I don’t know…” Dean ponders. “Kind of want to fuck you in all the places they’ve fucked you before me. Reclaim my territory.”

“That’s a lot of places,” Cas murmurs. But he’s holding up Dean’s gaze like he’s up for the challenge.

Dean decides to start on the desk. He remembers walking in on Cas getting fucked here but this huge looking dude holding him by the hair and three other guys cheering and - yeah. He’d like to replace those memories by much better ones.

He bends Cas on the wood and then kneads the flesh of his ass, rubbing the head of his cock on Cas’ hole over and over, loving the way Cas growls in frustration and clenches around nothing. It’s a good thing Dean’s wearing a fucking condom and a cock ring otherwise the tightness wrapping around him as he begins to push inside would’ve been enough to send him over the edge.

Dean slowly pulls the tip of his cock in and out of Cas' puffed, bright pink hole just because he loves the way it makes Cas beg and whine. Then he buries himself to the tilt with no warning, again adoring the cute little punched out sound that comes out of Cas, and the way his body just fucking accepts him, clenches around him, trying to pull him even deeper. 

“Fuck, Cas. So fucking tight. Fucked you with a huge dildo half an hour ago and still you’re so fucking tight for me-”

Cas moans in agreement as Dean begins to move, fucking easily in and out. Dean can’t help but rub his palm along the knob of Cas’ spine, knead his shoulders and then slide back down to grab on his hips as he pounds harder into him, ears flooded by his whimpers and grunts.

“Now I know why everyone loves fucking you so much, Cas. Fuck, so fucking tight, so fucking hot. Feels so fucking good.” 

Cas keeps moaning, gripping the edge of the desk, fucking back against Dean, who set out a punishing pace.

“Dean! Dean Dean Dean!”

“Fuck, Cas! Fuck, You love it fucking hard, don't you Cas? You just love getting pounded, you love being fucked, fucking _used_ , love being everyone’s little slut-”

Cas let out a loud moan and begins stroking himself, and Dean slow down just enough to tell lean over and whisper in his ear.

“You can touch yourself, baby, but you can’t come, hear me? Can’t come unless I tell you too.”

Cas lets go of himself with a long, frustrated whine punctuated with every pound of Dean’s cock in his ass. 

The tight heat and the beautiful sight of Cas’ flushed back and his own hand pulling at his hair is starting to get to Dean too, though. Soon he pulls out and gently leans Cas back up. 

He gestures at Cas to lay back on the floor, and puts a pillow under his lower back.

“You’re a fucking sight to behold, you know that?” he murmurs as he slides back inside of him.

With this angle he knows he’s brushing against Cas’ prostate with every thrust, and he’s having a lot of fun going from shallow pokes directly at it to deep, hard thrusts making Cas’ whole body bend up and long wails escape his throat.

“So fucking gorgeous, Cas.” 

“Dean-”

“So fucking good to me.” Those words have huge bead of precum pearling at the slit of Cas’ cock. “Look how good you are, Cas, so good to me, so tight around my cock-”

“Yes, yes, Dean-” 

Cas begins moving faster, fucking himself back on Dean’s dick, tightening and squeezing as his cock bounces back and forth in his stomach, strings of glistening precum dancing through the air.

“Shit, Cas, so beautiful, so good, feels so good-”

Dean knows that they're both getting there but he wants more - fuck, he wants to fucking blow Cas out of his mind. And he wants to give him what he really wants. What he really needs.

“So fucking gorgeous, Cas. Next time I’m gonna film you. You’d fucking love that, wouldn’t you? You’d fucking love it if I filmed you bouncing on my cock like a little whore-”

Cas cries out, grasping, trashing, and he’s getting real close, so Dean keeps talking.

“Maybe I could send it to your old buddies, uh?” Dean accompanies his word by a particularly hard thrust that has Cas screaming. “Maybe I could show them videos of just how good you are to me?”

“Dean, Dean, Dean, fuck, please, I need-” 

“Not yet, Cas.”

Dean takes a deep breath - he’s so fucking close too, but he wants to get Cas even further, just a tiny bit further.

“Maybe we could invite them over sometimes. Maybe I could fuck you right in front of them, what d’you say, Cas?”

Cas shudders, jerks, and Dean has to bat Cas' hand away from his cock, obviously painfully hard and straining. He keeps his pace, all of his muscles burning. 

“Show them who you really fucking belong to. I think you’d really fucking like that. Cause that’s what you like, Cas. You just like being fucked. You like being fucked and love being owned and you need people to know how much you fucking love it-"

"Yes, yes, Dean, please-"

"Come, darling. Come or me. Just for me, Cas."

Cas comes with a scream and Dean follows a second after, the wave of his orgasm hitting him like a full-speed bus as Cas keeps shouting and coming and grasping around his cock. Dean is vaguely conscious of having collapsed on top of Cas, of Cas clinging onto him and of his nails in his shoulders as he keeps twitching and (and still, still making sounds and pulsing around him) and Dean releases himself deep, deep inside of him.

 

Dean feels pretty fucking numb when his eyes flutter open. He’s not sure how long he’s been out, only that his body has never felt like this before - everything is so heavy and not-yet-sore but very soon will be, and he can barely move, and Cas is breathing hard and heaving under him. So Dean makes a humongous effort and lifts himself off his friend, finding him laying back, eyes closed, breathing deeply, an elated smile on his face.

Dean drops next to him, half comatose. They’re disgusting and sticky and covered in Cas’ cum, not to mention that the full condom is still somewhere half on Dean’s cock and in Cas’ ass. But for just a minute Dean needs to lay here and breathe. 

Cas’ hand finds his. Their fingers lace, squeeze.

It’s a good moment, Dean thinks. He doesn’t know how long it’ll last. How long until it’s over, until somehow it goes back to the exact same bullshit it’s been between them for years.

He doesn’t want it to end.

But it has to. They move. Get up. Dean throws out the condom, and then finds a towel to clean them up. Cas looks a bit dazed.

“Here, sit down,” Dean murmurs, guiding Cas towards the bed. “Relax.”

“I’m okay, I can-”

“No. Just relax.”

He kisses Cas’ temple - an impulse - but Cas lets him, blinking heavily, resting back against the pillows.

Dean rushes to the kitchen, makes some hot chocolate, finds some fruits, a hot towel. He comes back to a half asleep Cas whose eyes blink open and who smiles when he sees him. 

“Hey. Here.”

He makes Cas drink and eat a little, cleaning him off more thoroughly with the hot towel as he does.

“You don’t have to do this,” Cas murmurs.

“Yeah, I do, and I want to. It’s called _aftercare_ , Cas. It’s an important part of this.”

After putting some fancy lotion on Cas' ass, he wraps him up in a cozy blanket and then strokes a hand through his hair. They sit there for a moment, Cas letting himself go against Dean, sighing happily. 

“What do you wanna do, babe?” Dean asks. The nickname slipped out accidentally, even though the scene is over. “Time for sleep maybe?”

“Will you stay?”

Dean's heart jumps, swollen in his chest.

“Do you want me to?” 

Cas opens his eyes and looks at him.

“I’d like it.”

Dean smiles, his heart light and fluttery and so fucking warm. In a weird way, that means a lot more than anything else Cas has allowed him to do tonight. “Alright.”

Cas opens up his blanket and wraps it around Dean, head tucked in his neck, their limbs tangled in a perfect and warm cocoon. Dean kisses the top of his head.

The bed is warm and soft, Cas is warm and soft too, heavy and breathing slow on top of him. Dean doesn't remember the last time he's been this happy. He kisses Cas' forehead again, just because he can; traces patterns along the skin of Cas' arm and shoulder, because he fucking  _can_. Because he's holding him. He's wrapped up in Cas' vanilla coconut-y scent, his limbs still tingling with after-orgasm glow, the most beautiful being in the entire universe all cuddled up against him.

This is fucking heaven.

 

“Thank you,” Cas murmurs.

Dean realizes he's been stroking his hand through Cas' hair for a while now.

“For what?”

“For trying this. For doing this for me. I know this isn’t - it’s not what you usually enjoy.”

Dean weighs his words. He lets his fingers shimmer down the dip of Cas' spine and then up again. Cas rubs his face in his neck, humming. 

“It’s not what I thought I enjoyed, but, uh. I mean. It was kind of fucking amazing.” 

“Really?” 

“Yeah. Like… wow. I mean, I don’t know if you- I don’t know if I did it right-” 

“You did.”

Cas clings impossibly tighter around Dean. Dean smiles, Cas' soft, fluttery hair caressing his lips.

“Very much so.”

“Good. Good. I’m, uh. I’m glad.”

“And you were right.” 

“About what?”

“It is different.” Cas pulls his face back just enough to meet Dean’s eyes. His pupils have shrunk back, the infinite blue swallowing Dean whole. “With someone I love. With someone who cares. It’s different.”

Dean wants to cry. 

“Good different?” he lets out in one breath.

 Cas grins. “Amazing different.”

Dean kisses him, because he has. And Cas lets him, his hand gripping on Dean’s chest, lips parting, allowing Dean to nip at them and lick soft and smooth inside his mouth.

“I’m so sorry,” Cas says, muffled between two breaths.

“Why?”

“This whole time, I - after you tried with me, and I pushed you away. I’m so sorry I hurt you.” 

“Cas.” Dean takes his beautiful face in his hands, stroking his thumbs on the bolts of his jaw. “Cas, I was an idiot, alright? Instead of trying to understand you, I tried to force you to - to like what I liked.”

“Exactly like I’m doing now,” Cas frowns

“No,” Dean says firmly. “No. I acted like what you liked was wrong. _I_ pushed you away, Cas. I was mad and I was jealous and I didn’t want to understand. I mean, even if you had wanted to talk to me, even if you had wanted me, I was being such an ass to you every time I saw-” Dean closes his eyes. It’s still not easy. He really needs to get a fucking grip about this. “You couldn't even talk to me. I just kept treating you like who you were wasn’t okay.”

Cas shakes his head. His eyes are teary and Dean kisses his eyelids, the corner of his eyes.

“It’s my fault, Cas, alright? Shit. We could’ve - we’ve could’ve been… a Hell of a long time ago if I’d gotten my head of my ass sooner.” 

“I never really tried to talk to you. I was scared and I - I didn’t trust you. I'm so sorry.”

Cas looks down. Dean gently lifts his chin. “Hey. Maybe we both messed up a bit. _Especially_ me. But we’re here now, right?”

Cas nods. Dean presses his lips on the knot between his eyebrows, smoothing the hard lines of his face, finishing with a kiss on his trembling lips. 

He holds him there for a while, until Cas speaks again.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” Cas murmurs. “I know I've said it’s because I think it’s what I deserve, to be treated - treated this way, but-” Dean holds him closer, fingers knotted in his hair, Cas now speaking into the skin of his neck. “-but I end up being - what you did, today, how you - you took _care_ of me. It was all about me.”

“Believe me, it wasn’t,” Dean mumbles.

“I don’t know why I like - I don’t know what it is. I’m still trying to understand.”

“I know, baby. I know. ‘s alright. It’s okay. Hey, look at me. I liked it too. Maybe you don’t need to understand, Cas. Maybe you can just fucking like what you like and that’s it.”

He feels Cas shaking his head against him. Dean kisses his cheeks, his temples. “It’s like I… I like being humiliated and worshipped at the same time. It’s fucked.” 

Dean rubs his palm on Cas’ back, infinitely grateful for the simple fact that Cas is actually talking to him. Trying to make him understand instead of shutting him out. And Dean will do everything he can to prove he’s worthy of that trust.

“I think we both know there’s a lot of people who like stuff that’s a lot more fucked up than a bit of spanking and dirty talk, Cas. I know I’m part of the reasons you think it’s not normal, but I was wrong, alright? You gotta know that. _I_ was wrong. It wasn't you. There’s nothing wrong with you”

“Well now you say that,” Cas murmurs, teasing.

"Yeah. And hey, if anyone's the fucked one, it's me. I'm the one who enjoys doing that to you."

"You enjoy giving me pleasure. There's nothing wrong with that."

Dean smiles. "You enjoy giving pleasure too, Cas. Kind of your whole thing."

"It's different."

"Not really."

Cas huffs.

"The way I acted, Cas - I wasn’t - I mean, you gotta know that - what was putting me off wasn’t _you_. T’was them. I was jealous. It was just fucking… boring old jealousy, and bruised ego, and yeah. I was hurt and I was mad because I'm an idiot, but I was never - I never thought - _this_ isn’t wrong, Cas. You being you, there’s never been anything wrong with that.”

"Okay."

There’s something about Cas’ eyes being a bit red, and his cheeks being a bit pink, that makes his irises look so fucking summer sky blue, and it makes Dean weak in his whole body, and it makes him ache with how much he just fucking loves that man with every fibre of his being.

So he kisses him, again, and Cas lets him, again, and Dean marvels at it, because he can’t help but remember that one time, that one time Cas turned away, that one time Cas let him but it felt so wrong, and now it feels so right, now Cas holds him and his fingers dig hard in his skin to bring him closer, now his legs wrap around Dean’s waist and his hips grind little circles against him and he whines as Dean bites on the angle of his jaw, sucks marks on his neck. 

“You’re perfect, Cas. Always been fucking perfect to me.”

Cas moans, arches. Where a moment ago their embrace was soft and sweet, it’s now desperate and needy, Cas thrusting his hips up to rub his waking erection on Dean’s belly as he pants in his ears.

Dean bites on Cas’ shoulder and gropes his ass, eliciting a beautiful new range of sounds out of him. He revels for a moment in the simple pleasure of Castiel’s body against his own, warm and real and _his_ , holding him as close as humanly possible. In the friction of their hardening cocks as he nips on Cas’ mouth, coaxes his lips open and kisses him deep until Cas lets out soft little sounds. 

He keeps murmuring _perfect, perfect, perfect_ until Cas short of begs him to stop, and then he rolls them over, bringing Cas back on top.

“Lube and condom,” Dean murmurs, biting on Cas’ neck. Cas finds them and quickly hands them to Dean, who grabs his thighs and parts them over his own hips again. His fingers find Cas' opening easily, still loose and a bit slick, and quickly slip in. Cas groans.

“Dean, I-”

Dean hums and trails kisses from Cas’ shoulder to his ear, chuckling at the needy way Cas is already moving against him.

“I’m sore,” Cas whines as Dean quickly rolls down the condom and lubes himself up. "I don't think I can-"

Dean ignores him and aligns their hips. Cas grips his shoulders, resisting slightly.

“Dean, I said-”

Dean sinks him down on his cock in one swift motion and Cas hiccups in surprise. He lets out little growls, slowly breathing in and out, getting used to the very sudden thickness of Dean inside of him with so little warning. Dean holds him in place with firm hands on his hips, letting him grind slowly to adjust but not pull back, not even as Cas scowls, cheeks red, closing his eyes, nails scraping Dean’s shoulder.

“Dean,” he breathes out. "Fuck."

Dean begins to move, short little movements that have Cas’ eyes shoot open in surprise. Dean just fucking loves the strangled sounds coming out of Castiel’s throat, he loves the way Cas lets his body go, lets Dean do whatever he wants, despite the tears forming in his eyes. 

“Does it hurt, Cas?” he asks, slowing down his movements. 

“Little bit,” Castiel mumbles. 

Dean still slides in and out easily, Cas’ hole wet and warm and welcoming, tightening around him every time he pushes in deeper. 

“You know what I think, Cas?” Dean asks, keeping a steady rhythm, that Cas follows with quite some ease. “I think you fucking love this. I think you love how it hurts. I think you love being reminded of how good I fucked you an hour ago.”

Cas whimpers at that, hips stuttering, a shiny drop leaking out of his cock, so pretty and pink and bouncing on Dean’s belly. 

“I think I should fuck you so good you feel it for fucking _days,_  Cas. So you never forget that you’re mine, what d’you say? Wouldn’t you like that? Feeling me in your ass _all_ the fucking time?”

Cas nods frantically and moans, and Dean is the one to have to keep up with Cas’ grinds now, with the quick roll of his stomach. Cas looks so fucking beautiful like this, skin flushed pink and biting his own lips, so Dean grabs him by the neck and yanks him down for a searing kiss just so he can pull a little too hard on his hair and make him whimper. He can feel the way Cas leaks onto his stomach every time he pounds into him, every time he pulls harder in his hair. It's fucking amazing.

Cas leans back, balancing himself on Dean’s knees to slam his hips down harder, harder, faster, faster. He looks so fucking wrecked, hair sticking out, mouth swollen and bitten, open in constant sighs and moans, red marks all over his body, taunt in his effort to fuck himself back on Dean’s cock.

“Fuck, look at you, Cas,” Dean says, and his voice is shaking because he grabs Cas’ hips and drives into him with renewed strength. “Look at you. So fucking gorgeous. Bet everyone’d be real fucking jealous if they knew I got you like this.”

Cas’ thighs begin to shake, the muscles of his stomach tightening rhythmically. He’s already getting close and Dean fucking loves it. When Cas brings a hand to his cock Dean smacks it away.

“Nuh-uh,” he chuckles. “You can come whenever you want, babe. But no touching.”

Cas growls in frustration but the roll of his hips gets even more frantic. He’s leaning back over Dean now, kneading into his shoulders, searching for any friction against his stomach, but Dean holds him at a safe distance.

“Dean, please-”

“Nah, I wanna see you, Cas. You look so fucking filthy like this, you have no fucking idea.” He accelerates again, watching the way the fast pace makes Cas’ mouth go slack. “So fucking greedy for it, sweetheart. Made to fucking take me like this, made to bounce so nice and pretty on my cock.”

Warm liquid shoots up to Dean’s face as Cas cries out, digging bruises in Dean’s shoulders. His ass squeezes tightly around his cock, and if Dean hadn’t come twice already that would’ve done it. Cas pants, heaves, whining and grinding until the last spurts of his orgasm are fucked out of him completely. His shaky arms are barely holding him up and Dean cleans himself as quickly as possible before gently cradling him and rolling them over to let Cas enjoy what must be a pretty good post-orgasm haze according to the look on his face.

He gets him some water and lays back next to him. He kind of likes just watching him breathe.

Cas finally opens his eyes. He frowns and looks at Dean's cock, still hard and begging for attention.

“Did you…?”

Instead of answering Dean gently grabs Cas’ thighs and parts them, moving in between.

“I’m afraid I ain’t quite finished with you yet.” 

Cas frowns but doesn’t protest when Dean presses the head of his cock against his hole again. 

“Imma make you real fucking sore, Cas,” Dean murmurs before easing in in one slick motion.

He closes his eyes at the once again feeling of Cas’ heat closing around him. At the way Cas just _lets him in_ for the fourth fucking time in three hours. At the way Cas’ mouth parts and makes a small sound and his cheeks darken but he stays there, spread on his back, completely lax and pliant under Dean. And fuck, fuck if that’s not a beautiful fucking sight. 

Dean begins slowly, with no peculiar aim, just fucking into Cas’ heat and watching him close his eyes, accepting it. Cas isn't hard and won’t be anytime soon, but he’s still letting Dean do this, take this, his hand resting on Dean’s thigh, not pushing him away.

But Dean isn’t quite satisfied with Cas just sitting this one out. He shifts to shallow thrusts aiming right for Cas’ prostate and watches as Cas jerks, fingers knotting in the sheets, his eyes shooting open. 

“Too much?”

Cas nods, but Dean smirks and keeps his aim and rhythm.

“Feels real fucking good to me, Cas. Your ass just around the head of my cock. Just slipping in and out of you like that. How you fucking take me every time. Pretend like you don’t want to but fuck, you do, Cas, don’t you? You fucking love this.”

Dean fucks him a little deeper but keeps sliding out every time, teasing his rim at every thrust.

“You fucking love feeling my cock slippin’ inside you. Just like this. Look at you, fucking begging for it.”

Dean doesn’t miss the moan that Cas tries to bite into his lips and fails.

“And this, too."

With no warning Dean grabs Castiel’s thighs and buries himself as deep as he can, a strangled moan erupting from Cas under him. “You fucking love having me so deep you can feel it in your throat.” Dean moves in hard, deep thrusts now, and every time Cas cries out, but his fingers clutch around him, asking for something. Dean knows he’s threading a very fine line now - both with Cas and himself. 

“Gonna be feeling this for days, Cas. Gonna be feeling this when I fuck you again tomorrow. And then the day after. And every fucking day for a long long time.” This time Cas definitely arches in pleasure and squeezes tightly around Dean inside of him. His cock is still soft, though, but Dean marvels at it, his heart beating erratically. He’s getting real close, and way further than he ever thought he would, and he doesn’t want to mess this up. He pulls on Cas’ thighs until one of them is resting his shoulder, the other one wrapped tight around his waist. 

“Bet you just love this, too. Love getting fucked like this. Can’t even get hard but you still fucking love it. Look at that.” Dean punctuate his words by another harsh thrust inside of him, knowing full well he’s hitting all the right places. Cas arches up, wails, eyes closed, flushed face turned away. “Not even getting anything, doing this just for me, doing so good for me, Cas-”

Dean’s mind is getting overcome by pleasure, the snap of his hips quickens, and he’s only vaguely aware that he’s still talking.

“You have no idea how fucking good you feel right now, Cas. Giving yourself like this to me. Fuck, ‘m gonna fucking come in you, Cas, come deep inside of you, God, I love you so much and you're mine, Cas, _you're mine_ -”

And that’s when Cas lets out a strangled cry and screams Dean’s name. And Dean would do something about it except that Cas’ heat tightens around him one final incredible mind-blowing time and he loses it. He comes with a few deep, hard thrusts into Cas, stumbling over him and halfway through fireworks of pleasure does he realize that Cas is holding him tight, fingers carded through his hair and _pulling_ , shaking under him, but Dean’s still fucking coming and fuck, fuck, he can’t stop, he can’t stop, and finally he stops, and its just breathing, heavy breathing, and finding Cas. Cas who’s underneath him somehow, whose limbs are all shaking, whose chest is heaving hard.

Dean manages to scramble off him to give him some air. 

“Shit. Cas. Shit, you okay?” 

Dean sees him try to speak, try to move, but it’s like he can’t, his lips are shaking, he’s still breathing heavily, his legs still hanging in the air. Dean grabs his ankles and gently move them down, settling them, and does the same with his arms, and then rushes to the kitchen for a cold compress.

He brings it back and presses it on Cas’ forehead, whose eyes finally flutter open.

“Cas, ‘m so sorry, what-” 

And then Cas laughs. A pure, bubbly, bursting with joy kind of laughter. Dean stares at him.

“Fuck, Dean. That was...”

Cas giggles again.

“Did you just… ?”

“Yes.” 

“But you didn’t - you weren’t-” 

“I know.” Cas smiles, wide and bright and Dean blinks, wondering stupidly for a minute if it’s already morning and the light has begun shining through the windows.

“How?”

“A combination of a lot of things, I think. Everything. That was a very good angle,” he adds, like he’s a mental note.

Dean chuckles a bit, relieved. “Okay. Fuck.”

“I’m sorry I scared you.”

“No, it’s - I just didn’t know you could…”

“Me neither. Not really. Not like this.”

Dean lays next to him and this time finds himself with his head tucked in the crook of Cas’ neck, his palm splayed on Cas’ heart. He can feel his heartbeat, steady, regular. Magical. 

“So I did okay?”

“Yes, Dean,” Cas laughs. “You did okay. You’re a very adequate lover,” he adds, kissing Dean’s forehead.

“Gee, thanks, Cas.”

Cas smiles against his temple and Dean snuggles closer. This is nice. It’s really fucking nice.  

“Hey, Cas.”

“Yes?”

“Just, um. Y’know, all that stuff I said, while we were…”

Dean feels Cas tense up against him. 

“It was kind of - kind of part of the scene, y’know.”

“Oh.” There’s clear disappointment in Cas’ voice, and already he’s beginning to inch away from Dean’s embrace.

Dean tries to gather his thoughts. He needs to say this well.

“I just mean, you _know_ how I feel about you. You know what I - but I don’t - I don’t want you to think that I - I meant that you couldn’t - I want you to be free. ‘s all I mean. I know I played it like - but I love you, Cas. I just want you to be happy. However and with whomever you choose.”

Cas kisses him. It’s so soft.

“I know. But _I_ meant it. I am yours, Dean. Entirely.”

 

 

Cas is all snuggled up in front of the TV when Dean comes home. He finds most of his boxes empty and piled up in the hallway, only a few full ones left on the kitchen table.

“Hey,” Dean murmurs, leaning over the back of the couch to embrace his boyfriend. He takes the time to knead in Cas’ shoulders is rewarded by a little moan of relief. Cas is always so tensed. He looks up at Dean and grins.

“Hello, Dean.”

“Saw you unpacked most of my boxes.”

“Sorry I left some.” Cas chews his lower lip, guilty look in his eyes. “I got tired.”

Dean chuckles, kissing down the hard line of his jaw. 

“Can’t believe I’m gonna have to punish you for not finishing a task you were doing as a favour to me. Damn, Cas.”

Castiel hums as Dean takes the time to suck a red mark on his neck. 

“Want some hot chocolate?”

Cas nods and Dean moves to the kitchen, from which he comes back with two steaming mugs. Cas takes his and sighs happily as he takes a sip. Dean settles next to him, slotting their thighs together and wrapping the blanket around them both.

“Is this my mug?” Cas suddenly frowns. 

Dean glances at the _don’t worry bee happy_ mug that Cas is holding.

“Uh, yeah.”

“I’ve been looking for this for like a year.”

“Yeah.” Dean rubs a palm behind his neck, face reddening. “It was in one of the boxes you hadn’t unpacked yet.” 

He bites his lips under Cas’ confused and accusing stare. 

“You stole it?”

“I may have… _accidentally_ packed it when I left last time, and, uh, forgot to give it back.”

A slow smile creeps up on his boyfriend's lips. 

“I may have stolen a few thing to remember you by,” Dean mumbles. “I was missing you.”

“I kept two of your t-shirts,” Cas admits, smiling smugly. “I wore them to sleep so you wouldn’t know.” 

“So that’s why I found my old Led Zep in your drawer the other day! You know I chewed up Sam really bad for losing that.”

Cas is so cute when he blushes.

Dean wraps an arm around his shoulder and drags him against his chest.

“Guess we don’t have to steal each others’ stuff anymore.” 

Cas hums in agreement and snuggles up against Dean. 

“Guess not.”

They’ve been taking it slow but are making excellent progress every day, if Dean dares to think so. Cas especially. On top of individual therapy, he’s now in a group every week, and it’s been a huge help. Dean is actually surprised. He hasn’t been pushing, letting Cas come to him when he feels ready, but always being there, and making sure that Cas know it. He’s also been working a lot on always asking Cas what he wants, what he needs, and most importantly how he feels. 

“I love you,” Cas murmurs a bit sleepily against his chest. 

“Love you too, angel.”

Cas smiles, burying his face in Dean’s neck with a content sigh. The grin doesn’t leave his face, as well as the steady flush of his cheeks.

“You okay?” Dean whispers.

“Yes,” Cas mumbles, hiding a little bit. “I’m just really happy. ‘guess I’m not used it.” 

Dean wraps his arms tighter around Cas and presses his lips on his forehead, inhaling his familiar vanilla-coconut scent.

“Well, you better start.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> as i said in the beginning, basically yes sometimes cas seems to resist at first but if he really didn't want anything that's happening he would say no and dean would not insist if cas /actually/said like 'no dean get the fuck off'. and i'm not saying this as like a witness i mean it as like the author of the story...... he's letting it happen cause he wants it to happen even if at first rationally he's not so sure,,, his hesitation doesn't last very long
> 
> basically its one of cas' kinks to like,,,, resist and then,,, be really into it. what can i say he's weird like that
> 
> also i wasn't writing this to promote pushing when someone is saying no,,,, again this is a personal coping mechanism
> 
> find me on tumblr [here](http://casbeanie.tumblr.com/) or [here](http://casbean.tumblr.com/)


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